


Our Hero of Skyrim

by Kabiki_Kat



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7360783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabiki_Kat/pseuds/Kabiki_Kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr post:</p><p>Why do bandits attack the Dragonborn when they're clearly armed and armored to the teeth?</p><p>Maybe they want to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Hero of Skyrim

“That’s him right?” Irene whispered to Gudrun, keeping low under the shade of the brush that surrounded the forest road. The nords were tense as they watch the Dragonborn move towards their hiding space, unaware and unconcerned.

 

Araethel kept her mouth shut beside them, for nearly five years she had tried to carve out a living with Breyssa’s patchwork crew of gutter-stock, between the war, the dragons and the Thalmor it was getting harder and harder to scrape together enough coin or game to eat. People weren’t traveling, the rest of the crew was growing desperate and they all were starting to starve.

 

Their keep was growing more and more decrepit as time wore on and the lack of food was starting to give Araethel nightmares, though they were all so hungry all they ever wanted to do was sleep these days. She was exhausted, she craved the darkness of death and any chance of rest it would give her.

 

They normally never killed the people they stole from. It wasn’t until last week when Svartani got carried away with their last raid and shot a khajiit, she had been holding a chunk of venison and Svartani hadn’t eaten in days, he had been giving his rations to the wounded in their crew. They had been forced to fight their hostages and Kynareth preserve her, she could still see the blood on her hands.

 

After that with the strain of trying to hold the group together and keep everyone fed and with coin, Breyssa had made more than a few unsavory changes to their operating system. There were those in the band that opposed the new order, though the majority were more than willing to shed a bit of blood to get their pay. It was those who opposed that sat under the cover of the trees now; Irene Meridius, Gudrun Gjersvik, Krogan Dro-Bendal and Araethel Snowstalker. They had been tossed out of the band and left to fend for themselves, after five years with the bandits herself Araethel would have a hard time meshing back into ‘proper’ work, there was a hefty bounty on her head and without the coin she had been saving she was as good as dead anyhow.

 

At least this way they would die on their feet.

 

“Yeah, that’s ‘im alright.” Gudrun’s soft brogue pulled Araethel out of her brooding, he was almost to the choke point and she could see his walk slow from her spot under the bushes. He could probably hear them, it was said that the Dragonborn was head of the Thieves Guild now, Araethel thought of joining but she was too well recognized to be the quiet sort of thief. No, it was now or never.

 

Krogan was on the other side of the road, he would play heavy while the rest of them attacked from the rear, they had to at least make it look a little convincing. The Dragonborn could kill them all with barely a flick of the wrist, if they even saw it coming that is. His armor was like a strike of midnight against the vibrant green and browns of their surroundings and while he was smaller than one would think of someone who killed dragons regularly, the power was clear in the ease of his movements.

 

As she readied her longbow, Araethel took a moment to silently pray to Kynareth for a quick death, she knew she deserved the fires of Oblivion but that did not mean she wanted to draw out her last few moments. Nocking an iron arrow Araethel took a deep breath and fired, the arrow hit with a dull thud as it lodged itself in the back of the Dragonborn’s armor. She could see that it hadn’t pierced whatever sort of leather that made up the set but it was enough to cause him to turn towards them and allow Krogan to rush out with a bellow.

 

As soon as the Dragonborn turned to face Krogan, Irene and Gudrun rushed out from the brush swords in hand with silent resignation, they had all already said their goodbyes to each other that morning. The Imperial and the Nord fought together with perfect synergy, ducking and weaving around each other so fluidly that if their opponent had been anyone but the Dragonborn himself they’d be in serious trouble.

 

Araethel fired shot after shot, hoping to keep the Dragonborn distracted enough for the others to at least get a hit in. Though her hopes were cut shot as he turned and buried a dagger into Krogan’s chest, Araethel couldn’t stop the sob that was ripped from her throat as the orsimer fell. Her sobs were echoed by Irene and Gudrun who doubled their efforts out of rage more than any desire to see him dead.

 

They all wanted him to kill them.

 

Araethel could feel tears slipping unbidden down her face as Gudrun shoved Irene out of the way of the Dragonborn’s sword, forcing the nord to her knees as her gut was split open. From her place under the trees Araethel could see her lips moving but was too far away to hear what she had said. The Dragonborn seemed to pause at her words though, only to cut Irene down half a moment later as the Imperial ran at him screaming. 

 

Still under the trees, firing arrow after arrow, Araethel tried blinking the tears from her eyes as she saw her friends bodies scattered around her and the Dragonborn advancing. Dropping her bow and pulling out a small dagger, Araethel bolted from her spot in the trees towards her fallen companions, if she was going to die she would fall by her friends. 

 

She managed to slip around the Dragonborn, ignoring his confused exclamation as she darted around him and blindly struck out at his side. Standing over Irene’s body she could hear the Imperial’s labored breaths as she bled out, Araerthel could feel more tears making their way down her face and clouding her vision. Though the Dragonborn was standing still at the treeline, just watching her.

 

“Come on then!” She cried out, quickly rubbing the heel of her palm over her eyes to clear her vision. The Dragonborn said nothing but slowly walked towards her, sword drawn. Araethel suddenly understood why the stories of the Dragonborn were always so overdone; facing him down she could only see a faint glimmer of his eyes from under his cowl as he stalked forward without a sound, cloaked in midnight and exuding a calm that could only be gained by facing death a hundred times over.

 

She could feel herself shaking but Araethel held her ground, her dagger in hand as Irene and Gudrun bled out beside her. As he drew closer Araethel struck out with her dagger, trying to catch him before he could raise his blade, but he was too quick and side stepped the blow and grabbed her by the wrist. 

 

The last thing she could remember was the sight of the Dragonborn’s silver eyes and the pommel of his sword coming down on her head.

 

As Oblivion came over her, Araethel smiled. She could finally stop and rest.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few more chapters of this sorta planned out if anyone is interested in a less depressing sort of story. I don't write angst well so if there's anything that you think I could improve on please let me know!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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